Light Your Fires
by Athena's phoenix
Summary: "Franny," Vincent said jovially, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your ire today?"   "—If anything were to happen to Ciel, the heir, then the next son, his spare, would have to inherit that title. But placing such a heavy burden as the Queen's Watchdog on a sickly child's shoulders is far too cruel!" [Missing scene from chapter 132; Vincent and Francis have a conversation.]


_**Light Your Fires**_

Francis Midford was not a woman who was accustomed to feeling afraid. She was not used to the uneasy, restless feelings that inevitably crept up on her during her fencing lessons with Ciel. Nevertheless, afraid was how she felt, and it was distinctly uncomfortable for the woman who was both a ferocious daughter of the Phantomhive family and the wife of the head of the British knights. Francis was an uncompromising woman, and used to being in control…but control was precisely what she lacked with Ciel.

Her nephew was an unenthusiastic and unskilled student, more inclined towards frivolous or intellectual pursuits. He was still young, yes, and largely ignorant of the burdens of his name, but Vincent seemed in no hurry to divest him of his naiveté. At this rate, it seemed certain her daughter would end up marrying a slacker who'd be dead within his first year as the Queen's Watchdog.

At the thought, Francis' lips unconsciously curled in distaste, and with a sharp jab of her sword, Ciel lost his footing and tumbled to the floor.

"Ciel! You are not stepping through with enough force!" she barked, planting her sword on the ground and relaxing out of her stance. Looking down at his wide, startled eyes, she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Oh," she said, "well, I suppose that will be enough for today," before she turned sharply to stride out of the room. Behind her, she heard her daughter exclaim and begin to fret over Ciel, and her frown twisted into something deeper. This was not sustainable. She could work on Elizabeth, teach her and try to convince her not to baby her future husband as she did; but Vincent was far too stubborn when it came to his family, insistent on coddling his children in a way that he and Francis never had been. That way lay ruin, she was sure, and she quickened her steps towards her brother's study.

"Vincent!" she snapped as she entered, and her brother looked slowly up from his papers, not at all phased by her tone.

"Franny," he said jovially, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your ire today?"

And truly, she thought, he had grown from an aggravating boy into an insufferable man. But at least _his_ incompetence was only feigned, unlike his heir's.

"Ciel," she said, and her brother raised an eyebrow.

"What's the little rascal done this time?" he asked, his lackadaisical smirk still comfortable on his lips.

"Your heir is completely incompetent and absolutely unmotivated to do better," she said, and Vincent placed his chin in his palm, his posture loose as he looked up at her. She felt her brow furrow as her irritation rose.

"Ciel is a clever child," she said, "I'll admit. But petty cleverness has never been enough to survive as a Phantomhive," her voice took on a beseeching tone, and finally Vincent straightened, his affability washing away like mud in the rain.

"I know that you don't want to think about this," she said softly, "let alone hear it from me. Ciel is your precious child, and you've always been a doting father…at times _too_ doting. But both of your children are weak. Ciel might be able to unravel a plot, but what use is that if he does not have the ability to protect himself and get the job done? Neither of your sons is currently fit for the position of watchdog...so perhaps you should have another."

At this Vincent stood, shoulders stiff, and tore his gaze away from hers as he turned to face the window.

"Franny," he said lowly, and she sighed.

"Brother…I know that it is not my place to speak on this matter…especially since I was married into another family…but would it not be more beneficial to give it some more serious thought and consideration? If anything were to happen to Ciel, the heir, then the next son, his spare, would have to inherit that title. But placing such a heavy burden as the Queen's Watchdog on a sickly child's shoulders is far too cruel!"

Vincent remained silent throughout her diatribe, but now he turned, and that insufferable smirk was back on his face.

"If that were to happen," he said drolly, "then we would likely have no choice but to relinquish the lot of it back to Her Majesty…the domain, duty, and all."

Whatever he had intended, Francis wasn't amused by his words, and her aggravation had finally reached the tipping point. She pointed her sword at his throat, her blood boiling over.

"You irresponsible twat!" she spat, " _Please_ take this matter more seriously! You've always been like this, ever since we were young…."

Vincent smiled like a fool, and spoke as if she were the one acting absurd.

"Franny…" he consoled, his hands raised in placation, "breathe…. First, how about we sheathe that sword…."

Francis growled, but lowered her blade.

"You…" she said, "I know you have the capacity to be serious, so why won't you just act like it for once in your life?! Every time I express my worries for your family, you brush them off. Vincent… I am still a Phantomhive by blood. This family is important to me, too. You are an intelligent man; can't you see that you're leading your household too ruin? If you won't consider having another child in case of the worst, then at least say you'll take Ciel's position seriously. That child has no idea of what his future holds."

Vincent's hands dropped to his sides.

"Franny… if it will make you feel better, then I'll start teaching him about his duties. But he's still so young…."

"It's better he learn now," she said, "and be prepared, than learn too late and end up dead."

Vincent's shoulders slumped.

"As you say…" he said, "but I'm not just going to force it on him all at once. That's…too harsh."

"You seemed to handle it well enough."

"Yes, well," Vincent sighed, "With Mother doing the teaching, I really couldn't have done anything else."

That, at least, was the truth.

* * *

A/N:

Hmmm... The way I picture it, Francis takes more after their mother. Which would mean Vincent...takes after their father? *cough*Undertaker*cough* Also, while writing this, I found that I really love Francis and Vincent's dynamic. They're surprisingly fun to write. :D

Er.

This is just a missing scene; when I first read the chapter, I read Vincent and Francis' conversation and went, "huh. That sounds like... hang on, let me read that again. Yep, it definitely sounds like she's trying to convince him to have another kid 'cause o!Ciel's no good as a spare." I've kinda wanted to write this to fill in the gaps for a while, but only got around to it now (partially because I'm still avoiding working on another fic I'm having trouble with).

Also! Theory time: Vincent and Rachel actually were going to have another child, and someone was afraid of the the Phantomhives gaining too much power. That could be why they were killed?


End file.
